


what you feel is what I feel for you

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-12
Updated: 2007-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: "In almost 40 episodes, he and I have come at each other one time, and that was just because we were super tired and super strung-out. Immediately following, I went into his trailer, it was squashed, we gave each other a hug and it was done."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Title:** what you feel is what I feel for you  
**Pairing:** Jared/Jensen  
**Rating/Warnings:** NC-17; m/m slash, RPS, unapologetic schmoop, lips-on-cock.  
**Word Count:** 2, 077  
**Summary:** " _In almost 40 episodes, he and I have come at each other one time, and that was just because we were super tired and super strung-out. Immediately following, I went into his trailer, it was squashed, we gave each other a hug and it was done._ " Plus, a blowjob. ♥   
**Notes:** For my Nan, who’s having a poopy day and needed some happy J2 lurve. So I turned them into schmoopy girls, and added a blowjob. Yay!  
Based off this [ MediaBoulevard J2 interview](http://www.mediablvd.com/magazine/Magazine-Home/MBMag_200764646464.html), ‘natch.  
  
  
  
  
Jensen can’t even remember what it was about now.   
  
He remembers snapping -- strung-out, exhausted -- and then Jared’s hurt gaze, that wide, friendly mouth pressed flat and pinched white at the corners. He keeps replaying the moment it went wrong over and over in his head, seeing Jared hold his hands up in surrender, stomping away with a muttered, broken, “Whatever, Jen” and disappearing into his trailer.  
  
And it’s stupid, because co-stars, _friends_ , fight -- he knows this -- and he and Jared are definitely due a good one after forty episodes of getting on like real brothers without a sour word between them. Jensen’s gotten into it more times than he can count on sets -- part and parcel of the long hours and tedious pressure -- and truth be told, he’s been waiting for it to happen with Jared.  
  
He wasn’t expecting it to feel like someone’s cut his goddamn arm off, though. Didn’t expect to feel like such a damn girl, lost without a damn dimpled grin and quick, affectionate humor.  
  
Standing at the door to Jared’s trailer, he studies a crack in the pavement below his feet and lifts a hand to knock. There’s only a moment to process, to wonder if he’s acting too soon, if he’s acting too late, and then Jared opens the door. His expression turns tense, wary, and something inside of Jensen bursts. He never wants to see _that look_ on Jared’s face, coming at him. Never wants to be the one to dull the sparkle in those sharp-sexy eyes.   
  
And yet…he can’t deny the thrill that comes from knowing _he can_. That Jared even gives a damn enough to truly be upset when he and Jensen aren’t seeing eye-to-eye.   
  
Still, Jensen’s not stupid; he’s seen Jared angry plenty of times, even if it wasn’t ever directed at him. Knows Jared doesn’t hold a grudge, but there’s a first time for everything, right? And Jensen…Jensen doesn’t want to be Jared’s first.  
  
Not like this, anyway.  
  
“Hey, can I…?” He trails off, gesturing helplessly while Jared stands there looking for all the world like he’d like nothing more than to chew Jensen’s face off. And then cry about it. Goddamn puppy eyes.  
  
Those huge shoulders shake a little, then shrug, and Jared mutters, “Yeah, whatever” in as pissy a tone as Sam Winchester has ever managed on his best bitchy day. Jensen sucks in a breath and hesitates only a second before coming inside and closing the door after himself.  
  
Jared’s watching him from the center of the room now, hands in his pockets and anger drained away to hurt and confusion. _What’d I do wrong?_ , clear as day, and goddamn but the puppy’s tricks are lethal.  
  
Jensen licks dry lips, trying -- and failing -- for normalcy. “I guess we had our first fight, Sasquatch.”  
  
Jared’s mouth quirks, eyes big and wet, and christ, but Jensen shouldn’t find that as hot as he does. “Yeah, guess so.”   
  
He’s not planning to make it easy on either of them, then. Jensen just nods, breaking their gaze-lock and staring at some point over Jared’s shoulder for a long moment. Then, “Look, Jared, I was…I don’t even know what happened. I’m just so fucking tired, and it’s late and…I just wanna go _home_ , and I guess it felt like you were fucking up on purpose, man. And usually it’s funny, you know? But I just.”  
  
“Yeah.” Jared nibbles on his lip, guilt fleeting across his features. “I was just tryin’ to lighten things up a bit. Probably should’ve realized it wasn’t helping anything.”  
  
Jensen’s gaze snaps back, finding Jared’s cheeks flushed and his eyes dark. “It does help, a lot, Jay. Just sometimes, sometimes it doesn’t.” He feels stupid for having this weird, stilted conversation, because this is _Jared_ , and Jensen’s told him the deepest, darkest secrets of his goddamn _life_ , and now a few harsh words have him on edge and unsure as to whether or not Jared’s just gonna throw him out on his ass.  
  
There’s several beats of silence before Jared’s voice comes in a soft, husky murmur. “Hey. C’mere, man.” And then somehow, Jensen’s across the room and wrapped up in those big arms, heart cinched tight in his throat, and he can’t even find it in himself to _care_ that he’s being a total fucking girl, because this is Jared, and it’s them, and.   
  
And.  
  
“Never wanna do that again,” Jared whispers, a quick kiss of breath against Jensen’s ear, palm pressing low against Jensen’s back. “Jen, don’t wanna fight with you. About anything.”  
  
“Me either.” It’s amazing he can manage that with a tongue too thick and a voice scraped raw with emotion and stress.  
  
“M’sorry, I’m a fucking idiot sometimes. Don’t know when to quit.” Jared laughs, but it’s not his typical amusement and the look in his gaze isn’t like anything Jensen can define.  
  
“You’ll just have to make it up to me.” It’s said as a joke, and he flashes a weak grin, a wink, and starts to back away. He wants to put the situation behind them, start rebuilding his defenses and forget whatever he thinks he _might_ have seen in Jared’s eyes.  
  
Because _might_ isn’t good enough. Not for what Jensen wants, and what he has to lose.  
  
He’s not halfway to the door before Jared’s got his wrist locked between long fingers, pulling Jensen up short and tugging so they’re facing each other again. It’s instinct to jerk away, snap out a warning, but it’s _Jared_ , and Jensen sees something flashing again in those dark cat-eyes that maybe means more than _might._  
  
Jared just stares at him, and Jensen’s nearly vibrating with tension by the time Jared says slowly, “Got an idea about that.”  
  
There’s no joking in _his_ tone, and Jensen blinks several times before he realizes he’s now up against the wall, Jared’s elbows framing his head. “Uh.” _Shit._  
  
Jared groans, low and frustrated, sinking to his knees and hugging Jensen’s middle. “Can’t keep doing this, Jensen. I’m not good at holding it all in, keepin’ quiet.”  
  
“What’re you talking about?” But Jensen knows. He _knows_ , and things just got a thousand times more complicated.  
  
“Tell me how you like it.” Jared’s hands punctuate the silky slide of his voice against Jensen’s belly, fingers shoving the hem of Jensen’s shirt up and under his arms. Jensen stares down at the dark mop of messy hair, trying to reconcile what’s happening with what he’s wanted for too goddamn long to fully comprehend now.  
  
Jared. Jared freaking Padalecki, on his knees. Asking him to--  
  
“Tell me how to suck you, Jensen.”   
  
The sound that escapes Jensen’s throat can’t really be categorized as anything other than a full-fledged whimper, and he bites his lip when Jared looks up, eyes blazing and mouth curved into a sinful-soft smile. “Jared,” he starts, dropping a hand on his friend’s head, unsure whether or not he means to stop this or encourage it. “Jared, no. You. You, god, you don’t have to--you don’t even know--”  
  
“Yeah, well, lemme try anyway.” Jared’s voice is a thick slur, eyes misty-green and black with heat. His tongue touches the corner of his mouth, and Jensen shudders all over, thinking about Jared licking other places. Imagining that wide, filthy mouth opening over and around him, sucking deep and soothing the frazzled nerves chasing Jensen’s calm.  
  
And see, Jensen might be a good guy, but he’s no fucking _saint_.   
  
With a curse, he moves his hand from hair to jaw, tracing the sharp curve of bone and flesh, finding Jared’s lips parted, breath warm. He presses in deep with his thumb, watching the way Jared’s lashes flutter, chest rising and falling. “We gonna do this?” Jensen’s not sure if it’s even Jared he’s asking for permission.  
  
Jared’s response is to turn his head, nuzzle into Jensen’s palm and bite down on the tip of his thumb. When he lifts his lids again, Jensen finally understands just how ridiculous his question had been. Because this is happening, and neither one of them could stop it even if they tried.  
  
Jared works his buckle with surprisingly steady hands, looking up at Jensen every few seconds as if to say _I got you, see? Don’t worry ‘bout a thing, Jen_ , and Jensen rolls his shoulders back, rests against the wall. Puts himself in Jared’s capable hands and stops thinking about what’s right or wrong or _might_ or _maybe_.  
  
This is Jared. _Jared’s_ hands on him, pulling him out and weighing him against wide palm, _Jared_ purring in the back of his throat -- “Oh, God, you’re pretty every-damn-where, aren’t you?” -- Jared’s _mouth_ finally, finally, brushing a kiss against his cock, tasting and testing and dragging Jensen downdowndown and lifting him back up again.  
  
“Open…drop your lip just a little…wider…god, yes.” He hears himself, relaxed and comfortable, offering instruction like the goddamn mentor everyone tries to make him out to be. Even Jared sometimes, even though they’re only five years apart and Jensen’s just as confused and invested and fucking clueless about what to do as anyone else. He’s got a hand in Jared’s hair, guiding and stroking, and groans as velvet-wet tongue flutters playfully against his cockhead.  
  
Jared’s voice is a breath of heat and sin, his expression earnest, hopeful. “Good?”  
  
Jensen can’t help but laugh, hips rocking forward, cock grazing Jared’s candy-pink mouth and flirting for more. Jared catches the tip between his lips, suckling, and Jensen’s breath quakes. “Oh, yeah.”  
  
Jared’s smile is nearly blinding, and Jensen has to close his eyes to keep from saying something neither of them can come back from. Neither of them really need to know what this means, what it stands for, just how far gone they really are.  
  
And then Jared’s mouth is gone, voice tight and husky-low. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”  
  
_I got you, see? Don’t worry ‘bout a thing, Jen._  
  
“Jesus.” Jensen swallows, twists his fingers in Jared’s hair and pulls. His throat’s on fire, and everything’s too fucking bright. “C’mere, just. C’mere.”  
  
Jared’s on his feet without missing a beat, pressing up tight against him, head bowed and buried in Jensen’s neck as he shivers and drops an openmouthed kiss against salty skin. “Make you feel good, s’all I want,” he murmurs, _begs_ , and reaches between them for Jensen’s cock.  
  
“You do.” And god, it’s the fucking truth. “Feel fuckin’ awesome, Jay.” He laughs, shaky, wrapping a hand around Jared’s neck and forcing him to look up. “Fuckin’ _great_.” Thrusts into the tight heat of Jared’s fist, tongue wetting his lips and lids half-lowered.   
  
Jared’s gaze drops, tracking Jensen’s tongue, his cock, cheeks flushed pretty-pink and eyes glittering. “I feel…you just don’t even know,” he whispers, so soft it could’ve all been Jensen’s imagination, but there’s no making up the moment that mouth finds Jensen’s, licking wet and deep. “Open for me…damn it, kiss me back.”  
  
Jensen growls low, hand squeezing Jared’s neck and pulling him closer, opening wide and hungry. Jared’s mouth is hot, perfect, and his tongue tastes like near-on two years of _everything_ Jensen’s wanted. He’s been addicted for too damn long to be rehabilitated now.  
  
“Sorry,” Jared says against him, gasping the word and jacking Jensen’s cock slow, squeezing. “Sorry, Jen…Jensen…don’t wanna fight with you.”  
  
“It feel like we’re fighting?” It comes out wobbly and thick, and he’s so close, wound so fucking tight, but giving in and letting go are two things he’s never been used to. “Jared, I--”   
  
“Not fighting,” Jared interrupts, shifting and catching Jensen’s ear between his teeth. “Making up, yeah?”  
  
And it’s enough, the silly, tender hint in his voice, that Jensen accepts it, nods. Lets his head fall back on a broken groan as his hips jerk and his cock splashes warm and wet against Jared’s palm. He doesn’t realize he’s biting his own fist until Jared pulls it away and licks into his mouth again, murmuring soft sweetness against his lips.   
  
Jared’s coming apart, too, keening, rubbing his cock hard against Jensen’s belly while Jensen stands there and thinks, _I’ve never wanted anything the way I fucking want you._  
  
“Me either.” Jared’s grin shines, his forehead pressed up against Jensen’s, and it’s better than any kind of apology.  
 


End file.
